


Hot Chocolate, Hayrides, and Hand-Holding

by Pastellorama



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Autumn, Date Night, Halloween, Holiday Themes, M/M, October, Romance, spooky season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-17 19:11:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 3,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12372204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastellorama/pseuds/Pastellorama
Summary: “I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.”― L.M. Montgomery





	1. Hello

I met Damien with a very specific plan the night of October 13th.

He came, dressed in an elaborate frock coat of black wool with grey tweed boots adorning his feet and a purple silken cravat drawing attention to his pale throat. I wore jeans and a college sweatshirt that said "Horne Institute for the Arts"—courtesy of my daughter, Amanda.

"Well, don't you look dashing," I said as we met before a pair of wrought iron gates. I stepped forward to kiss his cheek, and he ducked his head in mild embarrassment. His cheeks, rosy with the cold of autumn, grew pinker still. 

"You flatter... my hair is ghastly, and I'm unsure my footwear is appropriate for whatever ventures you may have planned..." Damien protested. While his hair was not particularly well styled, he had managed to tie it up into some sort of bun. His glasses were the only thing keeping half his hair pinned behind his ears. Despite its length, he'd never learned how to manage it further than a simple ponytail for work.

"Your footwear is just fine," I assured him, knowing the response would bug him. He wanted more than reassurance; he wanted answers. 

His lips puckered into a perfect pout, and I laughed softly while moving behind him to untie and fix his hair. Tonight was going to be perfect.


	2. Dandy Prat

It had been over three years since I'd met Damien. Three years since I'd fallen in love with him, to be honest. 

The first time I'd seen him, he'd been hassling a confused store clerk in Dead, Goth, and Beyond. I'd watched him with too much interest, fantasizing over mall nachos until my daughter had dragged me away because she'd seen something in another window display. I'd left my fantasies behind, only to have them surge back to the front of my thoughts when Damien appeared at the neighborhood barbecue. 

Our first conversation was admittedly a disaster.

He talked about his love for the Victorian Era. How he dressed and lived as similar a lifestyle as was reasonable to the Victorian people. 

I corrected his hairstyle. Victorian men didn't wear their hair long. 

We argued about it until he admitted he just liked wearing his hair long; he left the barbecue seething, but not before calling me a "damfool" and a "dandy prat".

I was smitten, and remained that way from then on. That was why tonight had to be perfect.


	3. 180 HP

As we waited by the iron gates, I slipped my hand into Damien's and watched him out of the corner of my eye. He was looking around, occasionally attempting to peer beyond the fencing that continued past our vision on either side of us. 

He'd never been here before, but his son had. Lucien had helped me organize almost everything. He was the only other person in the know. Not even my own child knew what was happening tonight.

The ground rumbled beneath our feet, Damien's hand squeezing mine with worry. Damien was always jumpy this time of year—despite his appearances and odd interest in subjects such as graveyards, bats, and taxidermy, Damien was not a fan of the "spooky" things that came with October. 

An old and ugly tractor came into view, a small platform trailer following behind it. The trailer featured several haybales; adequate seating for at least another four couples. But, there was only us.

"I know it's no horse-drawn carriage, but... the tractor's got at least 180 horsepower, if that counts," I mentioned as the personal hayride slowed to a halt before us.

Damien snorted.

The driver, wearing a large straw hat that obscured their face, waved for us to climb on. I offered Damien my hand and helped him onto the platform. He took some time choosing the perfect haybale to seat his rear upon, but eventually I was seated next to him and the tractor pulled trailer lurched forward.


	4. Hollyhocks

The gates had been opened, and we'd entered via tractor hayride. Beyond the gate were the remains of a what had once been a paper forest. 

The neat lines of trees that had once stood were now destroyed, many trees lying on the ground with other plants growing over them. There were blackberries, ivy, and trees that would've been considered invasive back when the paper forest still served its purpose. Most importantly, however, were the flowers that had become the rulers of the undergrowth.

They were everywhere, and there were many kinds, though few remained blooming.

The ones that did, however, caught Damien's eye. He was wiggling beside me, pointing out each one and identifying them as we passed by. I liked the hollyhocks.

Our ride followed a specific path, winding through the abandoned paper forest until the scenery began to change. The trees became bigger, their branches tangling overhead and creating a lattice. The evening sun broke through in narrow beams, highlighting dust particles.

There were no flowers here, the air thick with the scent of decaying leaves.


	5. Dainty Waist

"Where is this? I've never before travelled to this area...." Damien asked.

We'd arrived at the edge of a large clearing, more forest continuing beyond its edges in every direction. The clearing was overgrown with grass.

I helped Damien off the trailer, my hands around his slim waist as I did. I'd learned long ago that Damien had once been quite self conscious of his effeminate figure. This was another reason he loved the Victorian Era; it had been a time when men wore corsets, and a dainty waist was fashionable upon all sexes.

"I'd need a map to explain," I told him. "But... if you look over there, you may see something that can give you a rough idea."

Damien stayed at my side, unwilling to move without my presence joining him.

We had been through a lot the last three years. Damien possessed a unique set of challenges in his life, and a unique set of fears to accompany them. More than once I had crossed a boundary... but, Damien was patient.

I learned a lot from him; mostly importantly, not to assume and equate my own struggles with that of everyone else's.

"I see something there! It looks... statuesque," Damien alerted me, his hand raising to point at something just beyond.


	6. Gravestones

Together, hand in hand, Damien and I wandered in the direction he had pointed. His eyes were focused on what he'd seen, and he did not know to watch his footing.

He stumbled hard, only my own grip on his hand keeping him from fully face-planting in the dirt and grass. "What was that!?" he asked as he regained his balance. I called his attention to the ground near his feet, where a bright orange pumpkin lay, a silent prankster. He looked puzzled by the pumpkin's presence, but, as we continued onward, we were met with more pumpkins hiding in clumps in the tall grass around us. 

"Again, I must ask... what sort of place is this, that we have journeyed t-" Damien fell silent as we approached the figure he'd seen from a distance. It was large, stone woman, her hands resting on an anchor that she kept before her feet. Her chin was tilted towards the sky and slightly angled towards the sun. Though she bore no color, her eyes were still frighteningly sharp. "She is hope..." Damien said, his fingers running over the stone and feeling where it had chipped and worn over time. "There are tulips at her feet," he mentioned. "They are love and passion."

I nodded. Damien, despite his fears, spent an unusual amount of time frequenting graveyards. He had learned the meanings of a variety of symbols that decorate gravestones, and I was always happy to hear him explain their meaning to me. 

"Will you ever tell me where we have come to?" Damien pressed, and I smiled. 

"Lover's Rest," I answered. "A forgotten graveyard buried deep in our own Maple Bay woods. It is the final resting place of those whose love never left, even after they did." I looked around, locating another nearby gravestone we could visit.

Damien turned and rested his backside against the pedestal of the woman with her anchor, sighing happily. "It's quite lovely... is this, then, an attempt to romance me?" he asked, a sort of cheekiness coating his tone.


	7. Pumpkins

We visited as many gravestones as possible, Damien counting the tulips and grinning. This truly was a romantic graveyard, with not a single headstone marking the grave of a child taken too soon. No one here had passed unexpectedly without living a life that was full of love and generousity.

"Alright, Damien," I said when the sun started to dip lower in the sky and light up the land with brilliant pinks and oranges. "I'd stay all night, but I don't think our tractor driver will... and I know you dislike the woods at night..."

Damien made a face at me for pointing that out, but he eventually nodded. "Before we go... can we select a pumpkin?"

A pumpkin? I hadn't thought about that. The fact they grew here had been as much of a surprise as the rest of the clearing itself. 

"Of course. Of course we can pick a pumpkin," I agreed. It was a good thing I had worn the college sweater. There was no way Damien was going to carry a pumpkin back to the trailer, especially not after he let out a loud yelp when he nearly touched a bug on one of them.


	8. The Wail

The journey out of the woods and through the abandoned paper forest was considerably spookier than I'd realized. With the sun setting, hardly any light was able to break through the brambles and find us, and the silhouettes of shrubs soon seemed like the shadows of others lost in the forest.

Our driver said nothing, the tractor steadily rumbling onward and the trailer bumping over the ground. Damien was clinging furiously to my arm, threatening to push the pumpkin I held out of my arms so that he might be in them instead. I was eventually forced to se the thing down between my feet, the sides of my sneakers pressing against and threatening to leave grooves in the rind of the pumpkin.

For once, it wasn't just Damien who jumped when a loud and anguished wail met us from beyond the trees, crying out and sobbing.

Then, from another direction, the sounds of unnatural crunching... like a large maw upon bones.

Our driver had stiffened, seemingly just as peturbed by these sounds.

"W-who's there!?" I demanded, unable to stop my voice from wavering as I called out.


	9. Overboard

No answer came to my call, strange and unusual sounds continuing to echo from hidden areas amongst the trees. Damien was growing more upset by the minute, and I was becoming frustrated.

This was not what I had planned for tonight. 

"What!? Why are we stopping!?" Damien asked shrilly as our ride slowed to a halt, the tractor continuing to grumble as it idled. The driver climbed down from their seat, Damien's nails digging into me in fear.

"It's alright... just... sit here. I'm going to go look around," I said, rising as well. I was not at all worried about the driver, but whoever else was in these woods posed a serious problem to me and to my plans.

Damien jumped up as well, unwilling to stay put with the pumpkin and insisting on sticking to my side. As he did, a movement caught my eye. 

Something came swinging down from the branches above, a loud cackle accompanying it as it swooped over our heads. Damien stumbled back, the heel of his shoe catching on the metal lip of the trailer's edge before he went careening off of it.


	10. Scrapes

There was a surprised curse from nearby in the woods as Damien toppled off the trailer. Our driver took off in the direction of the noise, long limbs sprinting to catch our "attacker". He dove into a thicket, the sounds of a scuffle occurring before he drug someone out into the open.

Our driver had lost his staw hat, and now his face was revealed.

"Lucien!?" Damien asked in shock as I helped him up from the ground. His hands were all scraped up, and he had mud all over his nice clothing. 

Lucien ignored his own father, instead cussing out the boy he held in his grip: Ernest Vega.

"You little shithead! Do you even realize what you are ruining tonight!? What the hell is wrong with you!?" Lucien was practically shaking the teenager.

We could hear the alarmed cries of other teens hiding in the woods, their shoes slipping on damp leaves and sticks as they took off and abandoned Ernest. I briefly wondered if Hazel Cahn was amongst them, knowing her to be just as impish as Ernest, if not more.

"Lucien!" Damien repeated, this time demanding his son's attention.

"Get outta here," Lucien snarled as he dropped Ernest.

Ernest scrambled away and was gone in an instant, which was for the best. I had a few choice words of my own I wanted to say to him.


	11. Tea Tray

Damien made a face as I wiped off the scratches and scrapes on his palms with an alcohol pad. I knew it stung, but it had been stinging ever since it happened so what was a little more irritation? Thank god Damien had no objections to modern medicine.

Sitting on the couch of his living room together, we made small talk until Lucien appeared. He carried a silver tray in his hands, a pretty little teapot and cups balanced upon it. Damien was struggling to control himself, waiting for Lucien to set the tea tray down.

The moment he did, Damien was out of his seat throwing his arms around his son and shouting. "What are you doing home!? It's been but a few months, and already you look different!"

Lucien shyly accepted the hug, his eyes flickering towards me. Damien was right. He'd only left for college this year, but it was clearly having an impact on him. Surprisingly, he looked _less_ tired than he did in high school. Perhaps he had changed his makeup?


	12. Chipped

"You know, I think I'd rather prefer tea..." Damien insisted as he stared down at the cup of hot chocolate Lucien had presented him. 

Lucien gave him a blank stare before digging his hand into a bag of large marshmallows. I knew Damien liked tea, but I also knew that he and his son both hid a massive sweet tooth and that, in the end, Damien would be grateful for the hot chocolate. 

"I made hot cocoa, not tea, so deal," Lucien replied. He was certainly growing up. High school Lucien would have been considerably more abrasive towards a complaint like that.

"Well, alright I suppose..." Damien said softly. "I do wish one of you would explain yourselves. Before I'm dead, preferably."

Oh, how dramatic he could be... that familiar pout was back, lips pursing as he looked between the two of us. 

"Well... Damien... tonight was meant to be special," I began. I watched his fingers curl around the hot cocoa cup, noticing that his nail polish had been chipped by his fall. I would have to redo it for him later....


	13. Perfection

I'd kept something hidden in my pocket all evening and even days and months prior, fingers always curling around velvet casing and inspiring thoughts of the future and happiness. Now my fingers dug there again, my other hand searching for and finding Damien's.

"I know things could have gone better... and I wish our evening hadn't ended with spooks and frights... but, I don't want to wait and try again for a perfect night," I said, fighting to keep my tone steady and calm. 

Damien shifted in his seat, his eyes quickly glancing towards Lucien before refocusing on me.

"A perfect night will likely never be achievable, but, Damien, I feel that every night and every day I spend with you is as close to perfection any human can ever be," I continued, squeezing Damien's hand in mine.

Did he look paler than usual? Or was it my own fears that painted him with nervousness and made him seem... unreceptive?


	14. Ouroboros

Damien's reaction was a soft gasp as I pulled the velvet ringbox from my pocket, withdrawing my hand from his in order to open it. He no longer looked towards Lucien, his attention devoted to myself and the object I held.

"Prince Albert presented Queen Victoria with a snake engagement ring to symbolize eternal love," I told him, opening the ringbox to reveal a golden snake that circled upon itself. "I also want you to know that my own love for you is ouroboros like in nature: infinite, full circle, unending."

The snake had twin amethysts for eyes, a large diamond set into its forehead. 

Damien stared at the ring, silent for what felt like an eternity before he spoke. "It was Queen Victoria who popularized the diamond for engagement and wedding bands, a fashion statement that has lived on well into our own time."

"Dad... will you just answer his question?" Lucien complained. I'd almost forgotten his presence, and now I felt embarrassed that he was here to witness my fumblings.

"I'm sure I would, were I asked one," Damien sassed.

I flushed red, realizing I had only been babbling about love without ever making my point. 

"Marry me," I blurted out, forgetting any words I'd previously planned. I'd meant it to be more romantic than this, sitting in Damien's living room with hot chocolate while his son ate marshmallows across from us and watched my floundering. "I mean," I said, trying to correct my own hastiness and do this right, "will you marry me?"


	15. The Garden

Damien's answer was swift, and he nearly knocked the ring out of my hands in his haste to fling his arms about me.

"Yes! A thousand times, yes!" he declared. He was practically yelling in my ear.

I sighed a soft laugh, untangling his arms from me that I might see his hand and adorn it with my token. I had no worries that the ring might not fit, Lucien having stolen one of his father's less worn pieces for my benefit. 

The Victorian snake ring slid easily over Damien's knuckle, and he beamed as he looked upon it. How well it would match the cloak he often wore....

The air felt thick, and my body stiff, as we sat in silence. There was a heaviness to the room, a sort of energy that hung there waiting for us to do something. I didn't know what it was, but I was hot beneath the collar.

Did I kiss him now? 

Eyes darting towards Lucien, I realized what it was.

I could not touch Damien. Not while Lucien remained. I would not have much control over my actions if I dared spark that invisible energy that was near tangible, and I very much doubted Damien would fare better.

"Ahem... I... Damien... come with me to the garden," I suggested. Perhaps the cool air would clear my head. At least we would no longer be visible to Lucien's eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey what if I got promoted and suddenly was running an entire business and took weeks to update a tiny story because oh my dear god what is my life right now.
> 
> I was legit going to finish this on Halloween and then my career went on steroids.


	16. When

Damien agreed to join me outside, the two of us slipping easily out the grand glass doors that led to Damien's exquisitely kept garden.

Even as the months grew colder and the flowers passed into slumber to wait for the spring, the garden still remained as beautiful as ever. Lights were strung about, illuminating bare branches and casting eerie silhouettes around us. 

We joined hands, wandering the paths and feeling leaves and petals crunch beneath our shoes as we moved. He had said yes. Damien had said yes.

I was in some sort of stupor over it, even as ridiculous as it was. I hadn't feared a no in answer. Still, he had said yes and my heart was thudding in my chest like a battle drum sounding victory.

I felt his fingers squeeze mine, and I reciprocated.

"So..." Damien said softly, urging me to speak. "Maybe it is too early in our engagement to discuss... but, _when_?"

"When?" I echoed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IIIIIT'S ALIIIIVE


	17. Boundary

Damien was looking at me expectantly, waiting for my answer, and yet I had no idea what answer needed to be given.

When what? What answer was he looking for?

"When...?" I repeated, Damien's hand slipping from mine as he looked away. Was he upset with me? I couldn't stand the idea that the perfect evening I had worked so hard for was falling apart like this. Was I ruining everything just by not understanding?

He covered his mouth with a hand, mumbling to himself. His breath rose in the air from his hidden words, swirling away with the slightest autumn breeze before he looked towards me again.

"I... oh heavens, this is embarrassing I'm blushing like a child I just know it," Damien spoke. "Oh, you know I hate being forward! Don't make me say it aloud!"

I could only give him a look of complete confusion as he complained, struggling to decipher what it was he was wanting from me. However, the color on his cheeks was deeper than what the cold air could've caused, and slowly an idea came to mind of what it was he was looking for.

Finding his hands again, I pulled him close to me. 

Our relationship had been chaste in every sense of the word since it had begun, but never had I felt any sort of bitterness over this. I had crossed the boundary only once before, when we'd first begun seeing each other. Lost in the moment, I had stolen a kiss from Damien that I'd had no permission to take.

At first, I thought Damien's anger over the kiss had been due to his desire to follow a certain sort of past lifestyle. I hadn't realized it had been much more closely related to his personal life. Something integral to him. Something he was terrified of discussing, of revealing, but had been forced to when I had taken things too far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Now that the story is back, I'm going to be wrapping it up soon.
> 
> I want to note that there will be NO sex in this particular short story. I'm saying that now, because I know it seems to be leading in that direction. But it isn't.
> 
> The reasoning is simple: this story is too short to do justice to the sort of representation that needs to be given to trans people in all genres, but especially romance without fetishization.


	18. Heart

Pulling Damien closer to me, I smiled hesitantly at him.

Maybe three years seemed like too long of a wait for something so small, but in this moment it seemed like nothing at all. Three years meant nothing in comparison to what was ahead of us. Already they felt smaller than the expanse of this one night, this one near perfect night.

My lips brushed against his knuckles, breath soft and warm upon his hands as I looked into his eyes. 

This would be it. This was the final boundary. Once crossed, there would be nothing left. I knew that in this one act, willingly given, our love and affection for each other really would be as unending as I had promised.

"... now?" I suggested, Damien nodding in reply.

It was clumsier than I expected, but it didn't matter. His lips were against mine, and my head was exploding and my heart bursting. 

It was perfect, and now the evening had everything I could have ever wanted. Hot chocolate, hayrides, hand-holding... and his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> That's it. Because honestly I don't know how to end a date story any better than I know how to end a date. Most of my dates end with a nap.
> 
> Feel free to draw your own conclusions about what they do next.
> 
> Additional: I had, originally over a year ago, intended to do more on this and have a real conclusion and to delve a little more into like... the people. But so much time passed and I really just wanted to conclude it so we can get on to more thought out things. 
> 
> I also realize that never once did Damien refer to the MC here by a name. Anyone ever wondered, his name is Mortimer. He goes by Mort/Morti. He was supposed to be described as having short brown hair and green eyes, but that's about it! 
> 
> Anyways, I'm sorry for the very abrupt ending that should've been done a year ago. Thanks for your patience, I hope to do something more impressive later!


End file.
